Tiểu thuyết tiếng anh target 017 dr who and the dalek invasion of earth terrance dicks

The TARDIS lands in a London of future
times – a city of fear, devastation and
holocaust . . . a city now ruled by
DALEKS.
The Doctor and his companions meet a
team of underground resistance workers,
among the few survivors, but after an
unsuccessful attack on the Dalek
spaceship, they are all forced to flee the
capital.
A perilous journey through England
finally brings them to the secret centre of
DALEK operations . . . and the mysterious
reason for the Dalek invasion of Earth!

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Children/Fiction

ISBN 0 426 11244 X


DOCTOR WHO
AND THE DALEK
INVASION OF EARTH
Based on the BBC television serial Doctor Who and the
World’s End by Terry Nation by arrangement with the
British Broadcasting Corporation

TERRANCE DICKS

published by
The Paperback Division of
W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd


A Target Book
Published in 1977
by the Paperback Division of W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd.
A Howard & Wyndham Company
44 Hill Street, London W1X 8LB
Novelisation copyright © 1977 by Terrance Dicks
Original script copyright © 1964, 1977 by Terry Nation
‘Doctor Who’ series copyright © 1964, 1977 by the British
Broadcasting Corporation
Daleks created by Terry Nation
Printed in Great Britain by
Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading
ISBN 0426 11244 X
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not,
by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or
otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent
in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it
is published and without a similar condition including this
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.


CONTENTS

1 Return to Terror
2 The Roboman
3 The Freedom Fighters
4 Inside the Saucer
5 Attack the Daleks!
6 The Fugitives
7 Reunion with the Doctor
8 The Mine of the Daleks
9 Dangerous Journey
10 Trapped in the Depths
11 Action Underground
12 Rebellion!
13 Explosion!
14 The Farewell


1
Return to Terror
Through the ruin of a city stalked the ruin of a man. His
clothes were tattered and grimy, his skin blotched and
diseased over wasted flesh. On his head was a gleaming
metal helmet. He walked with the stiff, jerky movements of
a robot—which was exactly what he had become.
The robot man moved through the shattered rubble of a
once-great city, a fitting inhabitant of a nightmare
landscape.
In time he came to a river, a sluggish, debris-choked,
polluted stream which had once carried great ships. He
quickened his pace, sensing that the water would pro-vide
the thing he sought—a way to end an existence of misery

and pain.
When he came to a gap in the embankment wall, he
marched stiffly through it and plunged into the water
below. He fell, like a log or a stone, making no attempt to
save himself. Dragged down by the weight of the helmet,
his head sank beneath the grimy waters. There was
something inhuman about the manner of his death—but
then, he had not been truly human for a very long time.
Not far away, on the rubble-littered remains of what had
been a building site, something very strange happened.
There was a wheezing, groaning sound and suddenly a
square blue police box materialised out of thin air, light
flashing busily on top.
Inside the police box, things were stranger still. There
was a large, brightly lit, ultra-modern control room. In the
centre was a many-sided control panel, its surfaces covered
with a complex array of knobs, switches, levers and dials.
From the size of the control room it was clear that the
police box must be bigger on the inside than on the


outside.
Around the centre console stood an oddly-assorted
group of people.
The oldest was a man who appeared to be somewhere in
his sixties, though in reality he was very much older. He
wore check trousers, a frock-coat and a long black tie. He
had flowing white hair and a proud, imperious face, with
more than a touch of ruthless cunning.
The three others were more ordinary in appearance.

There was a young man and a young woman, both
somewhere in their twenties, and a dark pretty girl in her
teens. All three were casually dressed in the clothes worn
on Earth in the last part of the twentieth century.
The young man was called Ian Chesterton, the woman
Barbara Wright. Once, though it seemed a very long time
ago, they had both been schoolteachers. Led by their
curiosity about Susan, the youngest member of the party,
then one of their pupils, they had followed her home. To
their amazement, they had discovered that she appeared to
live in this police box with a mysterious old man known
only as the Doctor, who she said was her grandfather. They
had been even more astonished to find themselves inside
the police box, and to discover that it was a kind of
Space/Time ship, called the TARDIS—a name formed
from the initial letters of Time and Relative Dimensions In
Space.
Then had begun a series of terrifying journeys through
Time and Space. The TARDIS had many extraordinary
qualities, but accuracy of steering did not appear to be one
of them. The Doctor’s attempts to return them to their
own time and place resulted only in an incredible number
of unplanned arrivals, sometimes on alien planets,
sometimes on Earth, though always at completely the
wrong period. They had seen many wonders, and
undergone many strange adventures. Such is the
adaptability of the human spirit that they had now
adjusted to a life of Space/Time travel. Though they still

hoped to see twentieth century Earth again, their old life
had begun to seem more and more like a kind of dream.
Now the TARDIS had made yet another landing. They
were all waiting with mingled anticipation and
apprehension to discover what lay ahead this time.
Moreover, to the Doctor’s extreme annoyance, they were
all being rather sceptical about his assurances that they
were back on Earth, and in the twentieth century.
‘Let’s take a look on the scanner,’ suggested Ian
practically.
The Doctor switched on, and they all peered into the
viewing screen. The picture was dark and fuzzy, like an old
TV set in a poor reception area. ‘Oh dear, oh dear, it’s not
clear,’ said the Doctor peevishly. ‘It’s not clear at all.’ He
glared at them accusingly, as if it were all their fault.
‘I wonder where we really are,’ said Ian thoughtfully.
Barbara sighed. ‘Somewhere quiet and peaceful, I hope.’
She knew from bitter experience that the TARDIS never
seemed to take them anywhere safe.
Susan gave her a quick smile. ‘Yes, we could all do with
a holiday, couldn’t we?’
Barbara peered at the murk on the scanner. ‘I can’t see
anything.’
Ian looked over her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, neither can
I!’
The Doctor indicated sluggish movement on the screen.
‘That could be water. A river, perhaps.’ Ian gave him a
sceptical look, and the Doctor turned away in a huff.
‘Susan, perhaps you’ll be kind enough to give me the
instrument readings?’

Susan was already studying dials on one of the control
panels. ‘Radiation nil, oxygen and air pressure normal.’
‘Normal for where?’ snapped the Doctor. He hated any
kind of imprecision, especially in matters of science.
‘Normal for Earth, grandfather,’ said Susan excitedly.
‘This is a typical Earth reading.’
The Doctor gave a self-satisfied sniff, as if he’d known


the answer all along. ‘I don’t want to boast, my friends,’ he
said loftily, ‘but that might well be London out there!’
Ian and Barbara exchanged rueful looks. In theory the
Doctor’s words were true enough. It might indeed be
twentieth-century London out there. But on his previous
record, it might equally well be some savage alien planet—
or the Earth of some completely different age.
Ian braced himself. ‘Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s
go and take a look.’
Barbara agreed. ‘Doctor, open the door, please. We’ll
chance it!’
For a moment the Doctor continued to look sulky.
Then he gave one of his sudden charming smiles. ‘Yes, of
course, my dear.’
He touched the controls, the door swung open, and they
all went outside.
They found themselves in an open area, surrounded by
high buildings. In front the ground sloped down towards a
wide river. There were scattered piles of building material
all around, bricks, timber, steel girders in enormous stacks.
Many of the stacks were partially collapsed—the one

nearest the TARDIS was in a particularly perilous state.
There was an ironic gleam in the Doctor’s eye as he
looked at Chesterton. ‘Well, here you are, my boy—home
at last. There’s the Thames.’
‘We’ve come a pretty roundabout way, Doctor.’
The Doctor nodded. ‘And arrived more by luck than
judgement,’ he said, with one of his disarming flashes of
honesty. He looked distastefully at the rubble all around.
‘This is a pretty horrible mess, isn’t it?’
Barbara nodded in agreement. It wasn’t a particularly
pretty spot to choose for a homecoming. But at least it was
Earth.
‘Where do you think we are, Ian?’
‘Looks like a building-site, down by the Docks. It all
seems pretty deserted. We can follow the river into central
London, there’ll be people about there.’


Ian and Barbara began making plans to find their homes
and friends again. The Doctor watched them, frowning. He
ran his hand along the nearest girder, then inspected it.
His fingers were covered in thick rust. The Doctor’s frown
deepened. Building material was valuable. You didn’t leave
it out in the open to decay unused.
‘I wonder which year we’re in,’ he muttered.
Ian caught the worried tone. ‘What’s the matter,
Doctor?’
‘Eh? Oh, I was just worrying about the time factor, my
boy.’
‘After all our travels, we’re not going to quibble about a

year here or there! ‘
The Doctor sniffed. For all their recent experiences,
these young people didn’t realise the dangers and
paradoxes in time travel. Suppose they met their own
grandparents while they were still children? Or worse still,
arrived at a time when all their family and friends were
already dead? He kept these gloomy thoughts to himself
and said, ‘For both your sakes, I hope we’re very near to
your own time. But bear in mind, we may have arrived in
the early nineteen hundreds—or in the twenty-fifth
century!’
Barbara refused to be downhearted. ‘Well, it’s still
London. No mistaking that, I can feel it in the air,’ she said
cheerfully.
Suddenly they realised Susan was no longer with them.
She’d grown bored with the conversation of her elders, and
slipped away. Ian hunted round for her un-successfully.
Then it occurred to him to look up. Sure enough Susan
was far above their heads, scrambling up the pile of girders.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he yelled.
‘Just having a look around. Can’t see a thing from down
there.’
Ian was about to order her down when he was distracted
by the Doctor, who said mysteriously, ‘Decay!’
Ian and Barbara stared at him. The Doctor went on


talking as if to himself. ‘That’s the word I was looking
for—decay!’
Barbara put a hand on his arm. ‘Doctor, what’s worrying

you?’
‘Look at all this! Preparations for some great
constructional work. A new bridge across the river,
perhaps. Not a small undertaking. Yet all around us is this
air of neglect. This place has been abandoned—and for
quite some time too.’
Ian could see the force of the Doctor’s arguments, but he
didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that the Doctor
might be right. The thought that perhaps they weren’t
home safely after all was too awful to be faced. ‘There’s
always a lot of mess in construction work, Doctor,’ he said
unconvincingly.
The Doctor was staring into space, his mind trying to
solve the problem on the little evidence available. ‘Perhaps,
my boy, perhaps,’ he murmured. ‘And yet...’
Barbara shivered. Like Ian, she didn’t want her hopes of
a safe return snatched away. ‘Doctor, you’re spoiling it all.’
The Doctor’s keen glance went from one to the other of
them. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. The last thing I want to do is
spoil your homecoming. But I think we ought to be wary...’
Susan’s voice floated down from above. ‘I’m nearly at
the top now. Still can’t see much, though. I’ll just go a bit
higher...’
Enjoying her own daring, Susan continued upwards.
Suddenly the girder beneath her feet rocked a little.
Nervously she said, ‘Oops!’
But the girder steadied again. She worked her way along
it and on to the very top of the pile. Balanced precariously,
she stared at the view below in shocked disbelief.
Although she wasn’t a native of Earth, Susan had lived

there with the Doctor for quite some time. She was very
familiar with the way that London ought to look. The sight
of the deserted, half-ruined city came as as big a shock to
her as it would have done to Ian or Barbara.


Susan wondered when they must have arrived. Somewhere in the nineteen-forties, perhaps? She knew London
had been damaged in World War Two—but she couldn’t
remember hearing that the damage was as bad as this...
And how was she going to break the news to Ian and
Barbara?
She heard Ian calling. ‘Susan, be careful! What’s it like
up there?’
‘Doesn’t seem to be anyone about,’ she called back. ‘And
the whole city’s...’ The girder beneath her feet twisted
sideways, and Susan lost her footing. She made a desperate
grab at the nearest girder but her hand slipped, and she
began a bumpy slide down the side of the pile.
The others looked on horrified and helpless, as she
tumbled from the pile, landing almost at their feet. Barbara
ran to her, kneeling by her side. Susan stirred and
muttered, ‘Ruined... all ruined,’ then fell back unconscious.
Barbara felt her head with skilful hands. There was a slight
trickle of blood on Susan’s forehead.
‘She grazed her head on the way down but there doesn’t
seem to be any real injury. She’ll be all right.’
The Doctor looked down at Susan, disguising his very
real concern with an air of irritation. ‘She will go dashing
about,’ he said disapprovingly—forgetting that he spent his
whole life in dashing about on a far greater scale.

Ian helped Barbara to sit Susan up. ‘Daft kid,’ he
grumbled, sounding very much like the schoolteacher he’d
once been. ‘She’s lucky it wasn’t worse—’
The Doctor rested a hand on the nearest girder. It was
vibrating. ‘I’m afraid it is worse,’ he said urgently. ‘That pile
was finely balanced, and Susan disturbed the equilibrium.’
They stared upwards and saw a huge steel girder,
balanced see-saw like across another, tilt slowly to one side.
There was a rumbling, grinding sound as the whole pile
began to shift. Susan’s fall, though minor in itself, had
been like the shout that starts an avalanche...
‘The whole lot’s going,’ yelled Ian. ‘Let’s get out of


here!’
The Doctor had already spotted the only safe shelter —
the arched doorway of a half-completed building nearby.
‘Come on,’ he called. ‘Over here!’ Dragging Susan between
them, Ian and Barbara followed him.
From beneath the shelter of the archway they watched
the collapse of the pile of girders. It was an impressive
spectacle, accompanied by an ear-splitting clang of metal
and clouds of dust.
The last girder clattered to the ground and there was a
deafening silence. Coughing and choking, the Doctor
peered out. ‘Everybody all right? Splendid!’ He seemed
rather exhilarated by the adventure.
‘We’re all right,’ said Ian. ‘What about the TARDIS?’
The Doctor smiled complacently. ‘How many times
must I tell you, Chesterton, my boy, the TARDIS is

indestructible.’
The dust was settling now, and the Doctor left the
shelter of the arch and began making his way towards the
TARDIS. Suddenly he called in an alarmed voice. ‘The
Ship, Chesterton, the Ship!’
Ian ran to join him, then stopped in horror. The police
box was still visible—but only just. An impenetrable tangle
of twisted steel girders blocked the way to its entrance. The
TARDIS was safe right enough—but they couldn’t get
back inside it.


2
The Roboman
The Doctor began tugging crossly at one of the obstructing
girders. Ian came to help him, but they were wasting their
strength. Ian shrugged and gave up, stepping back and
wiping his hands. ‘We’ll need help to shift this lot, Doctor.
We’d better try and find someone.’
The Doctor didn’t move. He stood gazing at the twisted
pile of wreckage, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
‘Remember where we are, Chesterton.’
‘We’re in London—oh, yes, I see what you mean. Why
do we want to get into a police box, people will ask.’
‘Ironic, isn’t it?’ The Doctor was still studying the
wreckage. ‘Now as I see it, this girder here is the main
problem. Shift that and we could open the door of the Ship
far enough to squeeze inside.’
Ian looked at the girder. Luckily it was thinner than the
rest. ‘I could cut through it with an oxy-acetylene torch.’

‘Easier said than done, my boy. One can’t just whistle
up machinery and tools at a moment’s notice.’ The Doctor
looked at Ian with an infuriating air of expectancy. His
manner suggested that he already had the answer to the
problem, and was waiting to see if Ian could work it out for
himself. Since Ian had a shrewd suspicion that the Doctor
had no idea what to do next, he found this attitude
particularly annoying. Ian glanced about him. ‘That
building over there looks like a warehouse of some kind.
We might find something in it. Even a few crowbars would
be a help.’
The Doctor shook his head disappointedly, like a
teacher whose favourite pupil had let him down. ‘I’m
impressed by your optimism, my boy. But brute strength
will never move that girder. No, a cutting flame is the right
answer.’


Ian’s temper boiled over. ‘I’m sure of one thing, Doctor,’
he snapped. ‘We won’t achieve anything just standing here.
And we must be able to get into the TARDIS before we
start looking round—just in case we run into trouble.’
The Doctor was quite unruffled. ‘Good, good,
Chesterton,’ he said approvingly. ‘A very intelligent
observation.’ Clearly the favourite pupil was doing better.
Ian opened his mouth for a sharp retort, when the Doctor
lowered his voice and led him a little further from the two
girls. ‘I have a feeling, Chesterton, an intuition if you like,
that we’re not in your time.’
A wave of disappointment swept over Ian, all the

stronger because he himself shared the Doctor’s suspicions.
‘Just a feeling, Doctor?’ he asked, hoping against hope.
The Doctor shook his head. ‘Consider this, my boy.
Here we are by the Thames. We’ve been here some little
while. And what have we heard? Nothing. No sound of
birdsong, no voices, no shipping, not even the chimes of
Big Ben. Just an uncanny silence.’
Suddenly Ian realised the truth of the Doctor’s words.
Apart from the noises they’d made themselves, there’d
been nothing but dead silence. Now deeply worried, he
followed the Doctor back to the two girls.
Susan was trying to stand up, with Barbara supporting
her. ‘Ow, my foot!’ She sank to the ground, looking
apprehensively up at the Doctor. ‘Sorry about what
happened.’
The Doctor sniffed, showing no signs of his relief that
Susan wasn’t badly hurt. ‘Oh, you’re sitting up and taking
notice, are you?’
‘There don’t seem to be any bones broken,’ said Barbara
encouragingly. ‘Just a bit of a sprain.’
Susan was still looking at the Doctor. ‘Don’t be angry.
After all, there’s no real harm done.’
‘Oh isn’t there? Just look at all this mess in front of the
Ship. We can’t get in.’
Susan looked as if she was about to burst into tears.


Hurriedly Ian said, ‘We’re going to take a look at that
warehouse over there, see if we can find some tools.’
Barbara looked worried. ‘Can’t we all go?’

Susan tried standing up again, then collapsed with a
wince of pain. ‘My ankle seems to have got worse. It’s all
swelling up.’
Ian said, ‘I’m afraid that settles it. We’ll be back as soon
as we can.’
Unhappily Barbara watched Ian and the Doctor move
away. She turned back to Susan, who was rolling down her
sock. ‘That ankle does look swollen, doesn’t it? Can you
move your toes?’
Susan gave an experimental wiggle. ‘Yes, it’s fine until I
put my whole weight on it. I’ve just twisted it a bit, that’s
all.’
Barbara looked towards the river. ‘Suppose I go and
soak my handkerchief with water for a sort of compress?
That might relieve it a bit.’
Susan was already struggling to her feet. ‘You’re not
leaving me here alone, she said determinedly. ‘Give me a
hand and I can manage to walk.’ She put her arm round
Barbara’s shoulders for support, and they started hobbling
towards the water.
By the time they reached the embankment Susan was
exhausted. They stopped at the head of some steps leading
down to the water and sat on the ground to rest. Barbara
looked around. ‘It’s all too quiet. No traffic... this isn’t my
time, Susan. It can’t be.’
Susan managed a smile. ‘Well, back to the TARDIS and
off we go again—as soon as we can get the door open.’ She
saw the sadness in Barbara’s face. ‘I’m sorry you’re not
home again after all.’ Then she added honestly. ‘Sorry for
you, but not for me. I suppose I’m selfish, wanting us all to

stay together.’
Barbara gave her a consoling hug. ‘No, of course not.,
Susan looked at the silently flowing river. ‘I think this
must be long after your time. We can’t expect things to stay


as they are. They have to change, don’t they?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Barbara sadly. ‘Maybe London’s
been abandoned. Or maybe they’ve just done away with
noise altogether! You stay there, I’ll go down and get some
water.’
Barbara made her way down the steps to the river’s
edge, and took out her handkerchief. By laying face down
and stretching her arm, she was just able to dip her
handkerchief in the murky water. As she straightened up,
something caught her eye, and she jumped back,
shuddering.
The body of a man was floating face-down in the water.
His clothes were tattered and grimy, and his body seemed
thin and emaciated inside them. Some unhappy tramp
who’d decided to end everything, thought Barbara—then
she noticed the gleaming metal helmet clamped to his
head. The body drifted slowly away downstream.
Barbara stood up, half-inclined to drop the water-soaked
handkerchief back in the river. But she told herself not to
be silly and started climbing the steps.
She was still wondering whether to tell Susan what
she’d seen when she reached the top. But there was no one
to tell. Susan had vanished. Barbara gazed round wildly.
Susan couldn’t have walked off, not with that ankle. She

must have been taken. Suddenly she sensed a flicker of
movement behind. Before she could react, a large, grimy
hand clamped over her mouth, and she felt herself being
dragged away...
The Doctor and Ian had to go round the back of the
warehouse before they found an unlocked door. It creaked
open to reveal a flight of steps leading upwards into
darkness. ‘I’ll go first, Doctor,’ said Ian firmly. He led the
way up the stairs. ‘Keep close behind me—and be careful.’
He heard the Doctor’s cross voice behind him. ‘I’m not
a half-wit, you know, Chesterton.’ Ian smiled to himself. It
would do the Doctor good to be treated like a child—a


taste of his own medicine.
Halfway up the stairs Ian paused and called, ‘Hallo!
Hallo... anybody there?’ His voice echoed in the silence
and he went on climbing. The staircase led to a long
gloomy landing broken up with several doors. The nearest
one, on their right, stood invitingly open, and Ian and the
Doctor moved inside. (Intent on what was ahead of them,
neither noticed when a door further down the corridor was
pushed slightly ajar by a cautious hand. Through the
crack, someone was watching them.)
They found themselves in a long high storeroom, empty
except for a few scattered crates and boxes, and an oldfashioned roll-top desk in the far corner. Ian looked round.
‘Well, there’s nothing here.’
The Doctor agreed. ‘I’m afraid the place has been
abandoned for some time.’
There were shuttered windows on the far side of the

room, and Ian threw them open. As the shutters creaked
back, sunlight streamed into the dusty room. Ian looked
out of the high window, his eyes widening at the panorama
of ruined London before him. Below, the river flowed
sluggishly through a desert of half-ruined buildings.
‘Doctor,’ he called. ‘Come over here and look! ‘
The Doctor shook his head sadly at the view. ‘ Just as I
feared. Some unimaginable catastrophe has overtaken
London.’
Ian pointed to a square building just across the river.
‘Look, there’s Battersea Power Station,’ he said dazedly.
‘It’s only got three chimneys. What’s happened to the other
one?’
The Doctor waved at the surrounding desolation.
‘What’s happened to all London, my boy? That’s the real
question.’
The Doctor moved away from the window and began
hunting through the desk in search of clues. Suddenly he
said, ‘Ah,’ and triumphantly held up a grimy sheet of
paper. ‘Well, at least we know the century. This is the


remains of a calendar.’
Ian ran across the room and almost snatched the paper
from the Doctor’s hand. It was a calendar right enough, the
familiar pattern of numbered squares. Ian looked
unbelievingly at the bold black figures at its head. They
read ‘2164’.
He stared at the numbers, unable to take in what they
meant. Slowly realisation dawned. He’d travelled two

hundred years into ‘his’ future.
The Doctor put a consoling hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m
sorry, my boy, believe me. We must get back in the
TARDIS and try again. I’ll get you home.’
Ian nodded, unable to speak. The sounds from across
the river came as a sudden distraction. ‘What’s that?’
The Doctor went over to the window. ‘Gunfire! This
city isn’t quite dead after all.’
‘Well, we’d better carry on searching. We may find
something we can use.’
The Doctor slapped him on the back. ‘That’s the spirit,
my boy.’ They started searching the room, rooting through
crates and boxes, most of which were empty or filled with
useless junk.
The Doctor pulled aside an empty crate to get at the one
behind—and a figure slumped to the floor at his feet.
‘Chesterton! Over here,’ he called.
Ian knelt. to examine the body, which had fallen faceupwards. It was a middle-aged man, his body as grimy and
neglected as his uniform. Clamped to his head was a
strange helmet-like device, a gleaming metal affair fitting
round the neck and over the head. Ian looked up. ‘He’s
quite dead, Doctor. What’s this metal thing for?’
The Doctor bent to take a closer look. ‘Just what I was
asking myself. Not for ornament, we can be sure of that.’
‘Could it be some kind of surgical device—support for a
fractured skull, or broken neck?’
‘It’s too complex for that,’ said the Doctor thought-fully.
‘You know what I think, Chesterton—it’s an extra ear, a

device for picking up ultra high frequency radio waves.’
‘A kind of communications system?’
‘That—or some method of radio-control...’
Ian noticed a couple of objects thrust into the dead
man’s belt. A truncheon—and a whip. He pulled out the
whip, a vicious-looking device with a stubby black handle
and long leather thongs, tipped with lead. He passed it over
to the Doctor, who examined it with distaste. ‘Worse and
worse. Whoever this chap was, I’m glad we didn’t run into
him while he was still alive.’
‘Any idea what killed him, Doctor?’
‘He doesn’t seem to be lying quite flat. If we turn the
body over...’ They turned the body on its face. The black
hilt of a knife was jutting out from under the left shoulder
blade. ‘Just as I thought,’ said the Doctor grimly. ‘He was
murdered.’
From outside the room came the sound of a creaking
floorboard.
Ian grabbed the truncheon from the dead man’s belt and
crept stealthily towards the door. He peered out into the
corridor. It was empty. The Doctor close behind him, Ian
crossed the corridor and pushed open the door of the room
on the opposite side. ‘Just another storeroom—and it’s
empty.’ They went back into the corridor and Ian looked
up and down it. ‘The sounds were coming from somewhere
out here.’ He moved along the corridor and tried another
door. It was locked. Ian rammed it with his shoulder, the
door burst open, and he found himself shooting into empty
space... The Doctor quickly grabbed him by his coat and
heaved backwards, and they both landed up in a heap in

the corridor. Ian scrambled up and looked cautiously out
of the door. Once it had led to a wooden staircase running
down the outside of the building. But now the staircase was
shattered and the door gave on to a sheer drop. Ian helped
the Doctor to his feet. ‘Well no one could have gone that
way,’ he said grimly.
The Doctor dusted himself down. ‘Only someone like


you would even try,’ he replied acidly. ‘I suggest we
abandon this fruitless search and return to the others.’
It was clear that the Doctor had had enough. Ian was
inclined to agree with him. It wasn’t very likely they’d find
a full set of oxy-acetylene tools lying about waiting for
them. And maybe hunting for the unseen killer wasn’t
such a brilliant idea either. ‘All right, Doctor, come along.’
Ian turned and led the way back downstairs.
They’d reached the warehouse door, and were about to
step out into the open when the Doctor grabbed Ian’s arm.
‘Chesterton, look!’ The Doctor’s other hand was pointing
upwards. Ian looked, and gave a gasp of sheer incredulity.
Drifting low over the ruined buildings, for all the world
like a plane coming in to land, was a flying saucer.
Instinctively Ian ducked back. The Doctor muttering,
‘Fascinating, fascinating,’ stepped out into the open to get
a better look. Ian grabbed him and pulled him back into
cover.
From the shelter of the doorway they watched the
saucer drift slowly downwards. It looked exactly like the
classic flying saucer of science-fiction films and drawings,

silvery-coloured, oval in shape, and with rows of windows
round the exterior. It made a low droning sound as it
moved, disappearing behind some buildings.
Ian shook his head wonderingly. ‘There were rumours
of flying saucers in my time, Doctor. But I never thought
I’d see one as close as this.’
The Doctor rubbed his hands together. ‘Well, it settles
one question. Whatever happened to London was not
caused by the people of Earth. That was an interplanetary
spaceship, my boy. Earth has been invaded by some other
world.’
‘Which explains the dead man we found,’ said Ian
thoughtfully. ‘That thing on his head must have been some
kind of alien control-device. And that gunfire we heard
means somebody’s still resisting the invaders.’ Ian looked
at the Doctor in sudden alarm. ‘Barbara and Susan! We’ve


got to find them and warn them what’s going on.’
They ran back to the TARDIS at top speed. Barbara and
Susan were nowhere to be found.
Ian looked angrily round the building site. ‘Why will
they do it?’ he demanded. ‘Why must they always go
wandering off?’
‘Perhaps they heard the gunfire from across the river,’
suggested the Doctor. ‘Or they might have seen the saucer,
and run to hide.’
Ian sighed. ‘Well, I suppose we’ll just have to look for
them.’
They searched the building site without success, then

started working their way towards the river. At the top of
the embankment steps they found their first clue... a
grubby, water-soaked handkerchief.
The Doctor nodded keenly, looking, thought Ian, like a
rather elderly Sherlock Holmes. ‘So far so good,
Chesterton, my boy. They came here for water, some-thing
frightened them, and they ran off again.’
‘Why didn’t they run back to find us?’
The Doctor frowned at the interruption to his fine flow
of deduction. ‘I can’t imagine,’ he snapped. ‘We shall just
have to look further afield.’
They turned to leave—and found four uniformed men
barring their way. They were ragged, gaunt, emaciated—
and each one wore a shining metal device clamped to his
head. They held truncheons in their hands.
Ian and the Doctor stood quite still. ‘We won’t get past
them, Doctor,’ Ian whispered.
‘Then we must go down the steps.’
‘Swim for it?’
‘What else?’
Ian looked at the Doctor. For all his tetchiness, he was
certainly a game old boy. ‘All right. They don’t seem to
have guns. I’ll try talking first.’ Ian called out a hearty
‘Hello!’ At the same time he and the Doctor began edging
their way down the steps.


The four men moved steadily after them. One was a
little ahead of the rest. Suddenly he bellowed, ‘Stop!’ His
voice was slurred and dragging, like a record played at the

wrong speed. As he spoke he picked up a jagged chunk of
masonry, and the other men did the same.
Ian and the Doctor continued their steady retreat. As
they neared the water Ian whispered. ‘When I give the
word, turn and dive! ‘
‘Ready when you are, my boy.’
‘Right—now!’
They both turned, and froze in horror. A Dalek was
rising from the water and advancing menacingly towards
them.


3
The Freedom Fighters
When the flying saucer passed overhead, Barbara and
Susan were already fleeing through the ruins of London
with a man who called himself Tyler. He was a tough
looking character, burly and middle aged, and although his
manner was curt and brusque he didn’t seem to be hostile.
When he’d grabbed Barbara at the steps, he’d re-leased
her almost at once, saying he’d just wanted to make sure
she didn’t scream. ‘They’ had their patrols everywhere, and
he’d already carried Susan to shelter so she wouldn’t be
spotted.
He’d taken Barbara to Susan, who was laying under one
of the arches of the bridge, confused and frightened.
Lifting Susan in his arms, he’d bustled them both on their
way, promising to take them to a safe hiding place, and
come back later for their friends.
When the drone of the saucer filled the air, Tyler

immediately flung Susan and himself to the ground. ‘Get
down,’ he whispered fiercely. Barbara obeyed, though she
couldn’t resist raising her head to watch the gleaming
shape of the saucer glide out of sight. Then Tyler was on
his feet again, picking Susan up. Ignoring their questions,
he said brusquely, ‘We must keep moving, we can talk
later. We shan’t be safe till we get underground.’
Still carrying Susan, Tyler led the way to the broken
entrance of what had once been an underground railway
station. He started carrying Susan down the stairs, but she
struggled till he had to put her down. ‘Wait! What about
my grandfather and our friend?’
Tyler shrugged. ‘We’ll do the best we can for them.’
Susan wasn’t satisfied. ‘That’s not what you said before!’
Barbara joined in. ‘You promised you’d get the others.
We don’t want to be separated.’


‘There isn’t time to argue,’ said Tyler savagely. ‘If we
stay on the surface we’ll all be killed, and then who’ll help
your friends? Now come on.’ They moved on down the
steps, Barbara and Tyler supporting Susan between them.
Tyler led the way along dusty silent corridors and on to
the platform. Strange posters covered the walls, not the
usual announcements of films and plays and exhibitions,
but severe looking official notices in heavy black type.
Barbara paused to read one.
PUBLIC WARNING. DO NOT DRINK RAINWATER.
ALL WATER MUST BE BOILED BEFORE
CONSUMPTION.

In smaller letters beneath were the words, ‘Issued by the
European Emergency Commission.’
Tyler reached out and pressed the letter ‘o’ in ‘NOT’.
Part of the wall slid back to reveal a tiny gap. A grimlooking young man appeared, rifle in hand. Tyler said,
‘O.K. David, it’s me.’ David stood aside and Tyler helped
Barbara and Susan through the gap. The door closed
silently behind them.
They were in a small tiled ante-room, furnished with a
few battered tables and chairs. Barbara guessed it had
originally been accommodation for London Transport
staff. Susan collapsed thankfully into a chair, rubbing her
ankle.
The young man called David looked curiously at the
two girls. ‘Hullo, then, what have you got here?’ There was
a faint Scots burr in his voice.
‘Found ’em wandering about down by the river. Sitting
targets.’
Barbara was annoyed by his scornful tone. ‘We’ve only
just got back to London. We didn’t know there was any
danger.’
Tyler looked incredulous. ‘Didn’t know? No, I suppose
you couldn’t have known or you wouldn’t have acted so
stupidly.’